


the Christmas Job

by Bastetian



Category: Scarecrow Series - Matthew Reilly
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29307303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bastetian/pseuds/Bastetian
Summary: Rufus loves christmas, but Knight doesn't. Rufus wants to celebrate together, but every year, Knight takes a job.
Relationships: Aloysius "Black" Knight/Rufus
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	the Christmas Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackHunter666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackHunter666/gifts).



In the years of their association, there were some things Rufus had come to accept as fact: when living with Aloysius Knight, there would be grenades in their bedside drawers, blood stains on the couch, and they would always be busy at Christmas time. All those families drawn together for the holidays. It brought out the best in people.

And the worst.

The sort of jobs that cropped up around Christmas were usually the petty kind.

A jealous sibling overlooked for a priceless family heirloom, who wanted it stolen from the family member it had been gifted to.   
Business rivals looking to take out the competition to monopolise the holiday profits.   
Hell, one year some dude had paid them to rough him up just so he could avoid seeing his family.

Rufus hated working Christmas. But Knight hated Christmas, and Rufus loved Knight.

To Rufus, Christmas was a time to spend with the people you loved. His memories were full of his parents’ faces – now long gone, but never forgotten – watching him unwrap gifts with a serene joy on early Christmas mornings, against a backdrop of twinkling lights. Of cold hands wrapped around warm mugs of cocoa. Of tables groaning under the weight of food and meals filled with laughter. He might have been an only child, but after a quiet Christmas morning, their house was always full to bursting with aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins and grandparents and great-grandparents and anyone else who had nowhere to go.

To Knight, every Christmas was a stinging reminder of the family he had been robbed of, and the holidays they would never share. Every year when the holidays approached, Knight would sink into a black mood that no one could reach. He talked less, scowled more. Rufus would often wake to find himself alone, Knight’s side of the bed cold, and Aloysius himself sitting in the dark nursing a few generous fingers of whiskey, lost in memories. So every year, Knight pushed those memories aside and took a job, and Rufus went with him because Christmas was a time to spend with the people you love.

Rufus knew that the wound caused by the loss of his wife and child might never heal, but he kept on hoping that one day Knight would realise he still had family.

He had Rufus.

“What’s the gig, Boss?” Rufus asked, as Knight came wandering out of their bedroom on Christmas Eve. Dressed all in black, as usual, but none of his tactical gear on display. Of course, being Knight, he could’ve had half a dozen weapons stashed away under his casual seeming leather jacket, but whatever their employment for the night, it evidently required more discretion than outright destruction.

Knight shrugged enigmatically.   
“We won’t be needing the Raven.”

Rufus nodded. He’d already figured the job would be local. Aloysius hadn’t asked him to refuel the plane or coordinate a flight plan. But other than that, he had been oddly tight lipped about the details of this particular job.

It didn’t much matter. He would be there, watching Knight’s back no matter what.

Because Rufus was always there, waiting to pick Aloysius up out of any situation.  
Even at Christmas.  
Especially at Christmas.

Knight snatched a pair of car keys out of the top drawer.

“I’ll drive,” he said.

Rufus frowned in confusion. That was his job. He _always_ drove. He might’ve been more comfortable in the air, but he was still one hell of a getaway driver. But he didn’t press the point. Aloysius made the plans. If he wanted to drive, there was a reason for it, and Rufus trusted his judgement.

They had vehicles stashed around the city, registered under various aliases. Knight had chosen a battered old jeep for tonight. Nothing flashy. Unlikely to draw attention, but not the best for a quick exit if one was needed.

Knight drove them into the downtown area, and Rufus began to feel nervous. This part of town was always busy. Even more so on Christmas Eve. There were harried-looking people doing last minute shopping, and families out admiring the light displays in the windows. Hell, there was even a school choir out singing carols in the strip mall.

Eventually, they pulled up in front of a church, of all places.

Now Rufus was really confused.

Now he might not be a particularly religious man, but with a name like Aloysius, Knight had been raised in a deeply catholic family. Rufus knew that even Knight wouldn’t desecrate a church. Not on Christmas Eve.

“You gonna tell me what this job is now?” Rufus said, with growing unease.

In reply, Knight only gave an enigmatic smile.

He walked over, not to the main doors of the church itself, but the weather-beaten hall that was set up beside it. Where children met for youth group on Friday nights, and where the local basketball team trained. Most importantly, it was where a group from the church met each week to bake up a storm of meals to send out to anyone in the community who needed them.

Knight pushed the door open and beckoned Rufus over.

Rufus could smell it before he saw it.

The run-down old hall was blazing with light and warmth, and packed to the rafters with people. The sound of Christmas carols could just be made out, playing over the tinny speaker system, against the backdrop of laughter and chatter.

It had been set up as a soup kitchen.

From the cafeteria, the scent of food wafted out from trays piled high. Ham and Turkey. Sprouts and mashed potatoes. Tureens of thick gravy. And the largest Christmas cake Rufus had ever seen.

In one corner, someone had set up a giant Christmas tree and decked it out in all manner of tacky decorations and garish tinsel. It was beautiful. Some volunteers were passing out gifts – toys for children who might not see another all year, much needed necessities for the adults, and a few little luxuries that they would never have allowed themselves – while others dished up heaped plates of food.

Rufus looked around at the milling people. He had seen enough of life through the army and then in his travels with Knight to recognise the look of refugee families, who had fled horrors with nothing more than their lives and the clothes on their back, trying to start again in an unfamiliar country. There were elderly people, left alone with no one to share the holidays with, and harried single parents struggling to make ends meet. Professionals who had found themselves unexpectedly down on their luck, and others who had only ever known the streets as home. And no doubt more than a few veterans who hadn’t been able to find their way back to civilian life.

All people, from all walks of life.

And for one night, they could all put aside their differences, and their struggles, to share a meal and simple joys together in community.

Because tonight was Christmas.

“The only job we’ve got tonight,” Knight said, “is helping out here for a bit. Then once we’re done, I’ve got Die Hard recording on the TV, and a bottle of eggnog waiting to be warmed up.”

“Is there rum in the eggnog?” Rufus asked, a broad grin cracking over his bearded face.

“There is if you want there to be,” Knight replied. “Anything you want this Christmas.”

Knight slipped his hand into Rufus’.   
“Merry Christmas Rufus.”

A little old lady in a hand-knitted cardigan beckoned them over, holding out a pair of volunteer vests.

“Merry Christmas Aloysius.”


End file.
